Give Your Heart A Break
by RebelleFleur
Summary: After her husband leaves her with two young children, Quinn Fabray must start her life over from scratch. Will the help of her young attractive lawyer be the push she needs to regain control? AU, M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Story: Give Your Heart A Break**

**Rated: T for now**

**AN: Long time, no write! My personal life has been hectic with school and work, but with summer vacation just around the corner, my life should be getting a whole lot simpler. This is the product of a new plot bunny that has now taken residence in my head. This is AU and as usual, I didn't create Glee or it's characters because if I did, the show would be a lot better right now.**

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"Mommy, Mommy! Wake up!"

And so began another day in the life of Quinn Puckerman as she was woken up by her oldest child. Beth Puckerman had her mother's face and her mother's hair, but her eyes were definitely her father's and at that particular moment, Quinn could practically feel those eyes boring into her skull and forcing her awake.

"Where's Daddy?," Quinn muttered sleepily, rubbing her eyes before slowly sitting up against the headboard of her bed. Daddy. Noah Puckerman or as Quinn had always called him, Puck. If Quinn could tell her seventeen year old self that she would be a mother and married to the bad boy that lived a town over, she probably would have laughed, but then again, how was she supposed to know that she would have gotten pregnant a few months later?

"Daddy went to work and I don't have school s'cause it's Saturday," Beth began, this time climbing onto the bed next to her mother. "Can we have bacon? Gramma says it doesn't make us good jews but it's so good!"

A genuine smile crossed Quinn's lips at her daughter's outburst, her hand going to ruffle through her daughter's messy hair.

"Can there be waffles too?"

Another voice joined them, Quinn instantly recognizing it as the one of her 4 year old son. As much as Beth looked like her mother, Mason Puckerman was definitely his father's son. Brown curly hair along with hazel eyes and a smirk that even as a four year old, Quinn could tell that her son knew had a deadly power that went along with it.

"Yes, we can have waffles," Quinn added to her previous promise, watching as her little boy beamed with happiness before making a running jump for the bed. Quinn always felt her heart swell whenever she was near her children and right now as she felt Beth snuggle up to one side of her and Mason on the other, Quinn could revel in the love that she felt for her family. The fact that their father wasn't a part of the picture perfect moment didn't seem to faze her at all. Maybe Quinn should have been concerned with that, but at the moment her mind was set on breakfast.

With her kids bounding around her as Quinn slowly placed strips of bacon across the heated frying pan, the blonde knew that she was destined to be a mom. Sure, it wasn't in her life plans to be married by 18, but as her daughter taught her son 'The Itsy Bitsy Spider' and her son clumsily made the same hand movements along with his sister, Quinn couldn't imagine her life any different. It wasn't as if Puck wasn't too bad.

Once upon a time she had truly loved him, but now they had gotten into the steady rhythms of marriage and kids. Puck loved his daughter and son though, and that was a blessing in surprise. When she had met Noah Puckerman, he was everything her daddy hated and a badass more worried about his music than anything else. Even Quinn couldn't have realized that Puck would have been such a softy. After his shift at the local mechanics or his second job as the only pool cleaning business in a three town area, Puck's attention always went straight to his kids. Playing with them, singing to them, tucking them into bed and reading them to sleep; the smile on his face didn't seem so forced when it was for his children. If Quinn could appreciate anything about her husband, at least it was that he loved his children.

Mixing the batter for the waffles that her son and daughter had so desperately wanted, Quinn told them that they could play in the living room with their toys quietly. The smell of the bacon sizzling was a calming smell and with her mind so focused on the task in front of her, Quinn almost didn't notice when she felt Beth tugging on the hem of her shirt, an envelope in the little girl's hand. Taking the envelope before watching the flash of blonde hair ran off, Quinn's eyebrows scrunched in confusion as she placed the plastic bowl on top of a counter and flipped the envelope over to see her nickname, Q, in Puck's writing staring back at her. The letter inside was only half a page long, but Quinn reread it again and again, even as the bacon began to burn.

_Q, _

_I can't do this anymore. This life is killing me. I could've been a rockstar and not stuck in this dead-end town. I'm getting out. Tell Beth and Mace I love them. _

_P. _

"Mommy, it's burning!"

It was her son's cries that forced Quinn back to the real world, a sharp breath released unconsciously.

"I got it," Quinn sputtered out, moving the hot pan off the hot burner and onto a cool one before turning off her oven completely. Running from the kitchen and back into her bedroom , Quinn chastised herself for not noticing that Puck's guitar wasn't sitting on its rack in the corner of the room, that his clothes weren't hanging in their closet, that his side of the bed was completely untouched from the night before. Shutting the door to the bedroom, Quinn placed her hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds as the realization finally sunk in. Her husband had snuck off in the middle of the night, leaving her and their two kids to fend for themselves. As Quinn collapsed against the edge of her bed and felt the hot tears fall against her face, she could feel the carefully crafted world she created crumbling down.

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**AN: And thus our story begins! Thank you for taking the time to read this! Reviews, comments, or concerns are greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Rated: T for some language**

_One year later_

"Your 9 o'clock is waiting, Mr. Evans."

Sam Evans thanked his receptionist once more as he stopped at the desk of the younger dreadlocked man on the way to his office. Usually Sam was early to work at the law offices of Turtino, Gast, and Yates, but that was one of the perks of being an associate at the law firm. With his younger brother and sister wreaking havoc before Sam could take them to their respective schools, Sam was rushing to the offices and was already late to his first appointment of the day.

"How long has she been waiting?" Sam asked, checking his watch once more as he dunked his fingers into his receptionist's open cup of water before running his fingers through his hair and slicking it back. Shit, 9:25 already? How did that even happen?

"15 minutes, Mr. Evans," his receptionist replied, raising his eyebrows at his boss' actions before shaking it off with a grin. "She's sitting in your office already."

"Thanks, Joe. Push back the rest of my meetings, would you?" Sam asked, still smoothing out his hair and shaking his hands to get the remaining droplets of water off of him. As Sam reached for the suitcase that laid waiting on the floor, his eyes caught something underneath his receptionist's desk that was a cause for concern.

"Joe?"

"Yeah, Mr. Evans?"

"What did I tell you about shoes?"

Joe Hart looked back up at Sam with a sheepish grin before slinking his bare feet back under the desk once more. "No shoes are only for lunch break rooms, not out in the office."

"_Exactly,"_ Sam quickly added, not having to look down to see that Joe had slipped his feet back into proper shoes. While his long dreads, tattoos of bible verses streaked across his chest, and silver nose ring weren't exactly what would one expect from a receptionist at an law firm in Columbus, Ohio, Joe Hart was a good kid and his family went to the same church as Sam's. When his mother had asked Sam for help in finding a job for her only son, Sam had been willing to help. After all, the kid wasn't too bad and they had pretty awesome conversations about religion and comic books when they were alone at lunch.

"Hold my calls, Joe," Sam added once more as he made sure he had his bearings before walking away from the desk, though he paused one more moment as he remembered something. "Oh, and pick a place for lunch too." With that last final instruction, Sam left the desk and headed the few more feet until his office and opened the thick wooden door.

"Quinn," Sam greeted with a huge smile on his face as he opened his door and extended his hand out as he did with all of his clients. After knowing Quinn for the last year, Sam knew that he would be receiving a hug instead. He couldn't complain about that either. The petite blonde did give great hugs after all.

"You're looking well, Mr. Evans," Quinn began, taking her seat once again where she had been waiting before.

"I thought we were over the formalities, Quinn," Sam shot the woman a look that he was teasing her before taking his seat at his desk. "It's Sam," the blonde stated as if this was the hundredth time he had to remind her.

"I know, Sam," Quinn cooed, biting on her bottom lip to keep her smile from spreading across her face. "I was just raised to call my lawyers by their formal name," the serious look that she had been trying to pull of failing miserably before the pair burst out into quiet laughter. Once the laughter began dying down, Sam had been taking the time to look through the file cabinet at the side of his desk and locate her file when he heard her question.

"Can you believe it's been a year?"

Sam almost shook his head 'no' out of reflex. He couldn't believe that it had been a year since her husband had left her, a year since she had stumbled into his law office, a year since he had taken her on as his first real client.

_The file had landed on his desk straight from one of namesake bosses themselves. One of the wealthiest people in one of the small towns outside of Columbus had a daughter that needed a divorce and was willing to pay whatever to make it happen. The law didn't exactly abide by those rules, but with dollar signs in their eyes, the head lawyers of Turtino, Gast, and Yates had taken on the case and handed it off to him. It had been three months since Sam had settled into the new law firm and the new city of Columbus, Ohio, but he had been itching for a case. Just not this one. A young mother whose husband had bolted didn't seem like an extraordinary case. How many of those happened in rural America, let alone rural Ohio? Reading the case file over briefly, Sam got what one of his law professors would say, the gist of the case. The young mother had probably gotten fat and lazy and her husband had left for someone new. It was just cut and dry like that. _

_The first surprise had been when the wife walked into the room. Quinn, he believed her name was. She was nothing like how he had pictured her. Instead of an chubby middle aged woman coming into his office, it was an attractive young woman walking into his office and that threw him for a loop. Her blonde hair was tied up in a high pony and her hazel eyes were taking in everything in his office, from the chair in her way to his degrees hanging from the wall and finally to him. If there was nothing else Sam could remember about his first meeting with Quinn Puckerman, it would be how frightened she looked, but underneath the fear was a determination that he could see bubbling through. _

"_Are you sure you want a divorce, Mrs. Puckerman?"_

"_Fabray." _

_Sam popped his head back up from the notepad where he had been scribbling notes and his green eyes met her hazel. "Pardon?"_

"_Fabray. It's my maiden name. I want to go back to it," Quinn clarified, clearing her throat and placing her hands on her lap. _

_After scribbling the name 'Fabray' and underlining it twice to remember, Sam asked, "And your husband is Noah Puckerm-" Sam paused when he heard a light scoff coming from Quinn. _

"_Puck." _

_Sam didn't understand what Quinn had meant by at first until she explained. _

"_No one calls him Noah except his mother. Everyone in town knows him as Puck. You might as well call him that here." _

_Writing the name Puck down, Sam asked the question again. "Your husband is Puck, correct?" _

_Quinn nodded_

"_Are you sure you want a divorce, Ms. Fabray?"_

_Sam remembered Quinn's lips pressing into a hard line for a moment, her eyes focused on something far out in the distance before nodding tersely at the man. _

"_Yes. It's what I want," Quinn finally answered, nodding her head along with her words. _

_Now it was Sam's turn to look through the file that had been brought to him regarding Quinn Puck-, he meant Quinn Fabray. _

"_So your husband left-" Sam pausing as he looked through the paperwork before Quinn cut it off. _

"_A week ago. Well really 5 days ago, but it's almost been a week." Quinn quickly answered, checking her watch for a moment and rushing through her answer. _

"_So 5 days ago?" Sam asked, scribbling down once more. "Are you sure that he's just not on a trip or maybe visiting some family out of town?" Sam as obligated to ask these questions, to fully gather if this was something that was going to be pursued._

"_His mother lives in the same town we live-, __**lived**__ in. He's not coming back." Quinn answered and the tone that she had replied with let the man knew that her answer wasn't up for debate._

_Finishing with his scribbles and knowing that he was going to confuse himself while writing, Sam reached into his cabinet drawer and pulled out a tape recorder and placed it on the desk in front of him. Sam had caught a glimpse of Quinn's confused face and immediately explained himself. "It's easier to ask you questions if I can look you in the eye for your reply," Sam began, giving the girl a smile. It was better to say that than talking about the dyslexia that sometimes hindered him and mixed up letters. _

_Clicking the recorder on, Sam had told Quinn that he was going to be asking her simple questions, just so he could get background and the pair could figure out their actions from there. _

"_Now can you please tell me your full name, date of birth, and current residence?"_

_Quinn cleared her throat once more before her clear voice rang out throughout the office. _

"_Quinn Lucy Fabray. I was born November 16, 1988 and I live at 349 Old Stone Road in Lima, Ohio."_

_Going through his checklist of questions, the rest of the questioning went by in a blur. _

"_How did you and your husband meet?"_

"_I was living in Westerfield and going to this all girl's private school, Dalton Academy. Puck showed up at one of the parties with a couple of his friends. He was a bad boy," Quinn paused as she rolled her eyes. "Who doesn't love a bad boy?" _

"_Do you have any children?" _

"_Yes." Sam watched a small smile appear at the talk of children. "A daughter and a son. Beth is 7 and Mason is 4." _

"_How long have you and your husband been married?"_

"_8 years. Right before Beth was born. I didn't want my daughter being known as a.. as a.. I can't even say it." _

_There were tears forming in the blonde woman's eyes and it was taking everything in Sam's power not to walk up to her so that they could hug it out. _

"_I did what I had to," she replied tersely, quickly wiping the few tear streaks off of her face with the side of her hand. "I loved him. Or.. I thought I loved him." _

_And on and on the meeting had gone, the details of the girl's life spilled out in front of him and captured on the tape recorder. Everything was detailed, the fights about money, the other women, the rockstar lifestyle her husband had wanted before being settled down with a wife and kids. After the past had been discussed and analyzed, it was time to start talking about the future, specifically Quinn's. _

"_So do you have a job?," Sam asked, his hand retaking the pen and jotting down a few notes. _

_The silence had been more than indicative of the answer before the man's eyes flicked up and caught wide hazel eyes staring back at him._

"_A job?," Quinn asked, as if unbelieving of the request._

_Sam resisted every urge to roll his eyes, remember that this was his client. Working 2 jobs while going to school full-time and taking care of two younger siblings wasn't exactly what most people did and he definitely wasn't going to spill the beans about his high school night job as a 'dancer' to anyone, especially the client who was supposed to trust him. _

"_Yes, a job, Ms. Fabray," Sam repeated, this time setting his pen down and not writing anything else. "I'm sure your parents are going to help with the house and your children, but you still need to have a job to prove to the courts that you are able to provide for your family just in case."_

"_Just in case?," Quinn replied, her eyebrows scrunching with her answer. "In case.. Puck comes back and wants the kids?" The blonde vehemently shook her head, crossing her arms against her chest. "There's no way he's coming back and I won't let him take my children from me." _

_From the tone, Sam could hear how serious the woman in front of him was to protect her children, which only proved to him that the job issue wouldn't be one anymore. _

"_Look, I don't do this for most clients, but you can put me down as a recommendation. I only know the basic stuff about you, but you seem decent and hardworking," Sam began, rifling through his desk for a small white card with all of his information to hand over. "And I think we're done for today."_

_Standing up from his desk, Sam smoothed his suit and watched as his client scrambled back up to her feet, her purse now back in her hands. "So what do we now?"_

"_Well, he just left, so we need to wait some time before we can officially start paperwork for a divorce. Ohio law states that it has to be a year of abandonment before you can file for divorce without worrying about him responding. If he shows up before then, then we can move forward and serve him papers, but while he's..," Sam paused, unsure of how much he wanted to remind the poor girl that her husband had left her. "I'll keep you updated with letters and phone calls about the case and in a year, we can meet back and move from there." _

_With a nod and a handshake, Quinn Puckerman 'nee Fabray became his client and the waiting game had begun._

"_Thank you, Mr. Evans," Quinn said once more before heading toward the door of his office. _

"_Call me Sam," he called back before giving her a grin and watching her walk out. _

Flipping through her now filled up folder, Sam pulled out the paperwork that had been waiting a full year to be signed. The document that would dictate officially that his client was filing for divorce under abandonment and begin what should be a short process to officially divorce husband and wife.

"Are you still sure you want to do this?," Sam asked, watching as Quinn crossed all her t's and dotted all her i's before handing back the paper that only needed his stamp and initials to be dropped off at the courthouse.

"I'm sure, Sam," she nodded, a sigh of relief that Sam swore meant a weight was coming off of her chest. "I just want to get this all done with."

The man couldn't help but agree. The filing was done, which only meant they needed to go through the motions, especially with Puck out of the picture, so that Quinn could be free and not worry anymore.

"Now, I'll have someone run this by the courthouse to see if we can get this on the public record today, so hopefully in the next couple of weeks, you'll be divorced. But for today, you're done." Standing up from his desk, Sam quickly straightened up the paper and clipped them together before reaching for a manila envelope and sliding the documents inside. He'd have Joe run them down later after lunch. His eyes caught the clock once more and Sam knew that Ms. Jones would be the next client in, which meant his time with Ms. Fabray was done.

"We'll have to meet sometime in the next couple of days to go over some things. Perhaps over lunch?," Sam asked as he leaned back against his desk. This wasn't a lunch date. Oh no, this was a business lunch. A lunch to discuss her future divorce.. not a date. "For business of course," Sam quickly added, in case there had been any confusion as to his intentions.

"Lunch should be fine. I'd have to see what days I'm working, but if you wouldn't mind driving down to Lima, I think of a great place that would work. I can call Joe to set up the appointment." With that reply, Quinn was shaking his hand and walking out of his office sooner than the Southern gentleman could have time to reply.

Not as if he had time to anyway. Ms. Mercedes Jones was making her way into his office and Sam had to quickly put Quinn's file away and get back to the singer's case of suing her record company for her music. That was the case that Sam had wanted from the beginning, something that was going to cause some buzz, but as he and his client went over the details of their suit, Sam couldn't help but be anxious to hear when Ms. Fabray was setting up her appointment and how soon it would be.

**AN: Sorry for the super late update. Life got ahead of me when I had about half of this chapter written and it's only been recently where I could sit down and finish it. Anyway, thanks for reading and I want to get the next chapter up asap! **


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